it doesn't mean a thing if you're not connected with love

The Morning After- B/J One Shot (Reply)

Author:guavejuicePairing:Brian/JustinTimeline:Post 513Beta:Kim predec2 Can't thank you enoughDisclaimer:I own nothing but this story.Comments are love.

"What the fuck happened here?" Brian mutters with a frown as he struggles to sit up, his voice incredulous as he scrutinizes his surroundings. Looking down at his naked body, he notices a red Santa hat perched right on top of his half-hard cock. "What the hell?" Growling, he snatches the festive item off his body. His rage – as well as his confusion – builds when he realizes he's lying ALONE on the floor with a half-full champagne glass sitting next to him.

Why had he been lying on the floor and not in his BED?

It's not that he's never been in this position before – literally – with half a dozen young, willing tricks surrounding him to worship the icon known as God Kinney, but this time it didn’t feel right.

And why is there a champagne glass here? It's the only alcoholic beverage that doesn't agree with him, or to put it simply, makes him barf.

His mouth feels dry and his head slightly spins as he tries to get up. The room looks familiar, but it can't be the loft. He would know, because he'd spent countless fucking parties there over the years. It's not a hotel room, either, because he would never go there with a random trick again; not after his encounter with good old Marvin, the closeted geezer, years ago. There had been, however, one OTHER hotel encounter with someone else; an intense, mind-blowing fucking session a few years back with a certain hot, stubborn young blond. The memory evokes an electric tingle all over him from his lower back to the tip of his cock as he remembers that night – a night that wore him the fuck out.

He suddenly lets forth with a violent sneeze, caused by the black feather boa that’s draped around his shoulders. Wait a minute…. What the fuck? Did he borrow the monstrosity from Emmett earlier in the night? In extreme aggravation, he hurriedly pulls it from around his neck, and flings it onto the ground beside him.

He frowns. Was this all some stupid, lame-ass joke? If so, then he isn’t amused. He scowls, feeling an urgent need to pee. Rising from the floor, he almost knocks the champagne glass over as he walks across the room in search of the bathroom. Once he finds it, he squints into the mirror, groaning at the image of messy hair and puffy eyes staring back at him before he relieves himself and flushes the toilet. Finding his way out of the bathroom, he passes through a nicely decorated hallway and pauses to stare at his own reflection in a full-length mirror that's hanging in the corner. I’d still fuck you, he tells himself inwardly with a smirk as he admires his toned, naked body, but then his head spins again and he feels the need to lie down. Then it hits him, and he realizes he's back in his country house in West Virginia. The house he'd bought for Justin and for himself once his favorite artiste came back from New York after obtaining his art degree there.

Shuffling his feet across the living room, Brian notices the Christmas tree Justin had insisted on erecting in the corner of the room. He shakes his head – amazed he had managed to talk him into it – before heading upstairs to the master bedroom to seek his lover's help in alleviating his nasty headache.

But Justin isn't here. Fuck!

Brian throws himself on the mattress anyway, burying his head in Justin's side of the bed. His fingers suddenly feel an oddly-shaped object. Brian lifts his head again to notice a large white Christmas stocking adorned with tiny red-and-green penises resting on Justin's pillow. He lets out a snort and sticks his hand inside the stocking to pull out a dark blue, shimmering wrapped gift with a card attached to it that read:

It's Christmas Day… Enjoy your stocking stuffer!More to come… ;)~J

Still not sure where Justin was, Brian can’t help smiling, gazing at the card for few more minutes before ripping the paper off the gift.

Brian sucks in a breath as he inspects the instantly recognizable gift from up close.

It's the drawing. The drawing Justin displayed at his first ever public art show, years ago at the GLC. It was a drawing of HIM. Well, mainly his dick, actually. Brian had never told Justin he hadn’t been intending on coming to the event until Lindsay had persuaded him. In addition, Brian had never told his lover that HE was the one who had bought the drawing that night. Brian didn't even remember where he'd put it until they moved most of their stuff from the loft to this country house. Justin had been drawing and painting countless images of Brian's naked body over the years, but this first drawing always had a special place in Brian's heart. Not that he would ever admit it out loud, obviously, even after so many years. He keeps staring at the drawing, marveling at how well a seventeen-year-old Justin had captured his dick. A long time has passed since then, but as he stared at the sketch, in a way it seemed like only yesterday.

"Hey, I see you found your stocking stuffer," Justin's cheerful voice rings in his ears a while later as the younger man enters the bedroom with a beaming smile.

Brian tries to contain his excitement as Justin throws himself in bed next to him. "Damn, I'm fucking freezing," he announces, molding his fully clothed body against Brian's nude form, taking special extra care to rub himself against Brian's raging hard on and smirking as he heard his partner groan in response.

Brian shivers as he feels Justin’s cold skin against his body. “Fuck, you ARE cold! Where have you been?”

"I went to the Diner to grab a little Christmas breakfast for the two of us, but Debbie apparently decided not to open it today, so I stopped by the food market instead and got all the ingredients to make everything myself" Justin explains proudly. "Ready for some extra crispy bacon and eggs with my famous homemade cinnamon rolls…Santa? " he continues, his eyes twinkling.

“Not so fast, Taylor…" Brian grabs Justin by his wrist to pull him even closer. "Speaking of Santa…” Brian shudders at the thought of even being compared to such a pudgy role model before he asks, “Care to explain what happened here last night, and why the fuck I woke up on the living room floor, naked with a fucking Santa hat on my dick, a feathered boa around my shoulders, and a fucking champagne glass next to me?” He glares at his partner. “Are you trying to ruin my reputation? You know I can't stand that shit…" Brian growls.

"Hmm… I beg to differ," Justin counters with a smirk. “You seemed to enjoy our Christmas Eve celebration quite a bit from what I recall. Yes, I know champagne usually leaves you with some nasty side effects, but you didn't seem THAT affected by it this time…And you came around once you were treated to the rest of our festivities," he told Brian, who arched an eyebrow at him in curiosity.

“My pleasure; that is, if you're up for it," Justin states seductively.

Brian glances down before stating innocently, “Oh, I’m definitely up for it,” his hands already pulling Justin's clothes off him.

Cupping Justin's balls, then his hardening cock, and finally the ample globes of his perfectly shaped bubble butt, Brian eventually silently signals to Justin to lie flat on his back and lifts his slim legs up in the air, exposing his well-prepared hole to welcome Brian's full, bare dick inside of him before Justin even has time to say so much as a “Merry Christmas” to him.

Matching their movements, their breaths, and their thrusts, both men take their time, enjoying the morning after to the fullest.

“Fuck, I love you,” comes a muffled cry deep from Brian as his lips are pressed to Justin's in mid-thrust. The younger man smiles between breaths and tightens his grip around Brian's waist, his ankles pressed deep into his husbands sides.

“I…love…you,” Brian repeats between grunts, a little louder this time, and it fills Justin’s heart with joy.

God, he loves this man so fucking much – more than ever before – because Brian no longer feels apprehensive or shy or so fucking scared to admit it anymore.

Not today anyway.

"Love you, too, Brian," Justin manages to gasp out as he realizes he’s about to come.

"Waaait…" Brian pleads under his breath, sensing his partner’s pending climax. "I want you to remember this; I want to remember this…" he urges him before letting out one labored breath, and then one more guttural, passionate cry before he comes deep inside Justin's ass.

Minutes later while they're still lying together in bed, wrapped in a post-coital bliss, all wet and sticky, Brian's cock suddenly slips out of Justin's warm, still-pulsating hole as milky white, shiny strings of Brian's cum flow from deep inside of his lover, onto his butt crack, and then down his inner thighs. He hears Brian chuckle as he lifts his head to peer over at him. “What?”

“I was just thinking about New Year’s Eve. Something just reminded me of a cork popping out of a champagne bottle.”

Justin giggles as he reaches down to swipe some of Brian’s come from his leg and licks it off his finger. “Hmm…. but I think I much prefer this to champagne.” He smiles as they lay there together contently for several more seconds before he hears Brian whisper, “Merry Christmas, Sunshine.”